Dreams
by That place in my mind
Summary: Sometimes dreams are good, you can't wait to have them, but in Jade's case, she dread's them. Especially when a man known as Sylar is haunting them.


**Disclaimer: **I do not own Heroes.

**Summary: **Sometimes dreams are good, you can't wait to have them, but in Alana's case, she dread's them. Especially when a man known as Sylar is haunting them.

**Author's Notes: **Please read and review. It's my first Heroes fic. But ayway i hope you all enjoy!

**Dreams**

* * *

I awoke, tangled and drenched in sweat, again after another one of my dreams. It was _him_ again. Evading my dreams like he didn't know what privacy was, like he didn't know how sick I was seeing him there every time I closed my eyes. Though this time, I think it was a real dream, a hot, forbidden dream that was making my whole body tingle. It had been so long since I had actually dreamt. Dream of something that wasn't going to take place, or had happened, or was someone's memory. Sometimes it felt strange not to do so. Then again it was hard to tell if they were real or just a dream. In this case I do find it hard to believe that this would actually occur in real life. Our bodies so close that I could feel the heat radiating off his chest. A shiver travelled down my spine.

Sitting up, I rubbed my face, I shouldn't be thinking about that. Raking my fingers threw my hair I got up. I walked to the kitchen in the dark, grabbed a glass and started filling it with some water. Sylar, his name echoed through my head. I sighed. He would never leave me alone.

He was a serial killer. Most feared and loathed man. He was all I could dream about, all I could think about. I have followed him, from loner watchmaker to crazed killer, from being heartless to broken hearted. The dream, memory I guess, of his visit to his mother was hard for me. That's when I started sympathizing for him; the cold crazed emotionless killer was now a person I wanted to help, to fix. I needed to bring back Gabriel Gray. I knew it would save the world, if not the world, the innocent people who he murdered and the people he planned to murder.

This is a strange gift to have, if I could call it that. I realised I had this when I was sixteen. What I thought were strange dreams were actual events. I dreamt of what marks I would get, when my friends had fights, when my parents were… killed. It all happened, how I saw it, and eventually I gave up saying it was coincidence, it was real.

I was exhausted. I slowly shuffled my way back to bed, placing the glass on my bedside table and collapsed onto my bed. Turning to face my clock, its bright shining numbers, 3am, stung my eyes. I groaned, I had only gotten two hours sleep, I shut my eyes and prayed for sleep, and for once it came.

* * *

I started awake, screaming and thrashing around, tears running down my face. My dream had been terrible, it felt like my heart had been ripped out, and I couldn't do anything to save him. My roommate, Melody Wilcocks, came running in, looking rather scared. I wasn't sure why she always looked so scared; I had done this so many times before, especially seeing as Sylar had been predominant lately with his killings. They were so graphic. So gory.

"Jade, calm down! What's wrong?" she grabbed my arms and held me in place, "What did you dream about now?"

I took a few deep breaths, trying to remember what had worked me up into this frenzy. My dream had slipped from my memory so quickly this morning, it has never happened before. Someone was hurt; I knew that much, seriously injured. I shook my head. Lifting my hands to my face I rubbed away the tears.

"Someone was stabbed by… Hiro, I think. Well, the Japanese boy I've had dreams about." I finally said.

"Yeah? Who did he stab?" she asked, tightening her grip on my arms and shaking me slightly.

"Um… I don't know. I can hardly remember it." I looked at my clock, 6am. There was a glass there from last night when I had that dream about… "Sylar."

"He killed Sylar?"

"No stabbed him, I don't think he is dead, the last thing I saw was a blood trail leading to a manhole. I don't know if it was him but I'm guessing it is… He can't be dead."

"Jade, he was a serial killer, you can't be upset about that, and I'm sure if you met him he would have killed you. For your power, like he does the others."

"Mel, you didn't see him, so… so… never mind."

Mel's eyes bored into mine, "I'm calling that doctor… that Indian guy you've dreamt about, Suresh is it?"

I nodded. She left the room and I pulled the diary I recorded all my dreams in. I wrote down the one of Sylar being stabbed, it seemed more important than the first, and after I had finished, I decided not to do the other dream. That dream was my own, something no one else could know. Because if in the slightest chance it was real, no one could know, not even my closest friends.

* * *

All day I couldn't help but think of him, it was nothing new though; Sylar was always on my mind. If I daydreamed, another of his memories came flooding into my mind. A few weeks back, when I finally found out where his shop was I went there, but nothing was to be found, he was already gone. When I found out where his mother lived, I went there too, but the place was empty and she was dead. I already knew these things; I had already seen them, I just hoped he'd be there. Because memory after memory I became more founder of the man. He was a puzzle to me, with one-piece missing, acceptance for who he was, that he is already special. I wanted to help give him that missing piece.

Mel was pulling me down the streets of New York, so we could find Dr. Suresh's building, and she could hand me and all my diaries over. As we walked, rather me being dragged along, I wondered if Dr. Suresh would even trust us. I mean, here he has been betrayed by Sylar, posing as… Zane? Could he trust me? From my dreams he seemed like he trusted people so easily, would have that changed? But he thinks Sylar is dead.

Eventually we got there, and now I was sitting on a couch, listening to the both of them talking about me. They were on the subject of my "incident"; the poor little girl with scary dreams took to many sleeping pills to stop them. It was really silly how people acted, I hadn't realised how many I had put in my hand, and I was in the dark. They thought I was an extreme case, like I couldn't be left alone for too long or I'd do it again. If only people knew what it was like to dream about death, to see someone getting the top of their head cut off, they'd try and stop it too. I wasn't suicidal or anything, I just wanted to have a dreamless night, actually sleep. My average a night is four hours, I just get exhausted.

"…and I'm going away tonight, so I am having difficulties leaving her on her own. I don't want her to make that mistake again."

That comment brought me back down to reality.

"What?" I asked angrily.

"What?" Mel exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air. "You expect me to trust you? Every morning you wake up screaming, who else is going to look after you?"

"I don't need people looking after me. Anyway, Sylar is gone, I won't be dreaming of him anymore."

Mohinder, who seemed to be busying himself with my diaries, looked up. That wasn't good, mentioning Sylar, now Mel would rat me out on my latest obsession. I needed to change the subject, so no questions were asked.

"Cant you just have someone check on me every once and a while. Or call me everyday? Wouldn't that be easier, instead of throwing me on some stranger's doorstep? Please, don't take all my dignity away!" I pleaded.

"I think she is right Mel, I could call her everyday and go to your apartment a couple of times a week. Make sure she's alive." said Mohinder.

Smiling I nodded, "see listen to the Doctor. I'll be okay."

And with that, she actually left me to be alone. Mohinder set up a roster and would be calling me every morning at 10am and visit me Monday, Wednesday and Friday. He would also do tests on me. Maybe even try to help control my dreams. Everything seemed to be going great but how was I to know that that night would change my life forever.

* * *

I was in a small tunnel, which was so dimly lit that I could hardly see in front myself, and I was surrounded by the rancid smell of sewage. I gagged. I knew was going to be sick, my body had broken out in a cold sweat and I could feel the bile rising in the back of my throat. Still I tried suppressing it, stomach clenching, but that brought on a whole different kind of pain. I stopped moving, looking skyward and taking a few deep breaths, though it didn't help. The smell just made it worse, the pain unbearable. I needed to stop breathing. I needed to get out of there. I began walking as quickly as I could so I could escape and reach clean air, the pain in my stomach was restricting me, and I was restricted to dragging myself along the slippery path.

I kept my hand firmly pressed against my stomach in an effort to stop the bleeding, but the warm liquid was rushing onto and all over my hands, and down the front of my clothes. I was surely going to die all the bacteria I was surrounded by, the blood-lose, the pain. I _really_ needed to get out of here, I didn't know how long I had been there, stuck in this shit. Too make matters worse, rats, running all around me, having the time of their lives with the blood that was trailing behind me. I kicked a few, in anger, but that just resulted in more pain shooting through my body.

I continued on, even though I wanted to give up, it seemed like an eternity before I came to my escape, to my freedom. A ladder which was situated on the side of the wall would lead to the fresh clean world above. With all the energy I could muster, I climbed, and then without realising it I was laying in an alley, legs hanging down the hole and no one around to help me. Rain was beating down on me, washing away the retched smell from my clothes and body, also the blood. Before I could move a muscle, the world around me disappeared in to darkness, and now I felt no more pain.

* * *

I woke with one quick squeal escaping from my lips. I was out of bed in a flash, grabbing my phone, keys and slipping a pair of shoes on. Time seemed to blur as I left my building and the next thing I new, I was driving down a street, trying to find something. Again I lost myself, and when reality came back, I was standing in the rain in an alley, looking down into the darkness. I could see a figure lying on the ground. _No… it couldn't be, _I thought. 


End file.
